


And Tango Makes... Four?

by sunsetmog



Series: Annabel [3]
Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Kid!Fic, M/M, Not!Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-08
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not!fic snippets from the sequel I haven't written yet. </p>
<p>These snippets date from just after the end of Thereafter You Have It, when Annabel is one and Brendon and Spencer are talking about a baby brother or sister for her, through to when she's about six or seven, and they're moving back from New York to California so they can have a yard and a dog and they're closer to their families. Objects of My Affection is set just before they move from New York to California.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Tango Makes... Four?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://sunsetmog.livejournal.com/565041.html) in July 2011.

"Oh my god," Spencer said, burying his face in his hands. "I can't believe we had to bring her with us. It feels wrong, doesn't it? Weird?"

Brendon rolled his eyes, and shifted Annabel on to his other hip. She was carefully and methodically sucking on her penguin's wing, and staring wide eyed at Spencer. She held out her penguin for Spencer to see. 

"She's been to the doctor's office before, Spence," Brendon pointed out, as Spencer leaned in and pressed a kiss to Annabel's forehead. "This is kind of the same thing. Me and Annabel, we're just going to sit out in the waiting room -"

"While I go jerk off into a cup," Spencer said, kind of desperately, and under his breath so that Annabel couldn't hear him.

"It's not like we're going to be in the same room," Brendon said. "We're going to be down the hall."

"I'm going to jerk off in a cup," Spencer repeated, and he hissed, "fuck, you think they've got gay porn?"

Brendon bumped Spencer with his hip. "Don't talk about porn in front of the baby."

Spencer groaned. Surrogacy, what the fuck _next_. 

~*~

"So," Brendon said brightly, an hour later. "That took a while."

Spencer did not blush red. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Brendon and leaned in to strap a sleepy Annabel in to her car seat, smoothing her hair behind her ear and running his thumb across her cheek. "Yeah, well," he said, closing the car door, "do you want to go try jerking off on demand?"

Brendon snorted a laugh. "What, really? That hard?"

"No," Spencer said, grumpily. "Really not that hard. Kind of the problem."

Brendon patted him on the shoulder in a commiserating manner. "Bad porn, huh? Not gay enough for you?"

"I can get it up for straight porn," Spencer said. "Just kind of prefer the dick right now, that's all."

"The dick, huh?" Brendon smirked. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Your dick, whatever. If you'd figured out a babysitter you could have come helped me out. I wouldn't have had to go hand a cup of jizz to the receptionist by myself."

"Yeah, yeah, blame the fact you couldn't get it up on me."

Spencer punched him in the shoulder, rolling his eyes. "That's the thanks I get -"

Brendon grabbed his sleeve, and tugged him closer. "Shut up," he said. "We fucking love you, okay?"

"Good," Spencer said, kind of breathlessly, "because I think we just made a baby."

~*~

Brendon yawned and crept back under the covers, burrowing his nose into Spencer's neck. 

"She asleep?" Spencer asked, echoing Brendon's yawn. 

"Pretty much," Brendon hummed, one hand sneaking under Spencer's t-shirt. "You think she's excited about the baby?"

Spencer shrugged, and concentrated on sleepily tugging Brendon closer. It wasn't a hard sell, since Brendon was always up for falling asleep wrapped around Spencer, and Brendon just made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he shuffled nearer. "I think she's too young to understand," Spencer said. 

"But she can say _baby_ now," Brendon pointed out. His fingertips rubbed at Spencer's belly, and Spencer rolled his hips in response. 

"She can say _don't want that_ , too, but I'm pretty sure they're not connected."

"True," Brendon said, and licked Spencer's jaw. "You think they'll get on? Annabel and the new baby?"

"Yeah," Spencer said, softly. "Sure they will."

"Good," Brendon said, happily, "that's what I wanted." He slid his hand under the waistband of Spencer's boxers, curving his fingers lightly around Spencer's dick. "You're just what I want," he said, and his voice dropped lower, his fingers squeezing a little as he plastered himself to Spencer's side. 

Spencer was getting hard. "Good," he said, and leaned in for a kiss.

~*~

After Arthur's been checked over and had his tags put on his tiny wrist and ankle—it says _Arthur Urie-Smith_ in tiny capital letters—the doctor stands in front of them and offers them their baby to hold.

Brendon's holding on to Spencer's hand so tightly it hurts. "Spence," he says, softly, and Spencer thinks, _oh my God_ , because the doctor is handing him his son and his heart feels like it might burst.

Arthur is tiny and pink-faced and he wriggles a little in Spencer's hands; it's barely a movement but Spencer's in love. Brendon wraps an arm around Spencer's shoulder and ducks in, pressing a kiss to Arthur's forehead.

"Hey, baby," Brendon says, and Spencer opens his mouth to speak but he can't think of anything to say.

"Hey," he manages, hoarsely. "Hey, Arthur."

He wishes Annabel were here; all of a sudden he knows that they made the wrong decision in leaving her with her grandparents, in deciding that this would be too difficult for her to grasp. "Annabel should be here," he says, after a moment.

"We'll get Mom to drive her down," Brendon says, and he pulls his chair a little closer so that they can curl around their baby, their son, and watch him spend his first minutes in the world with them.

~*~

"Our kid is playing with a coat hanger," Spencer says, from where he's lying on the couch. Arthur is sitting on the floor by the coffee table, very carefully ignoring both Brendon and Spencer, in favor of playing with a wooden coat hanger. Spencer's not entirely sure where Arthur even found it; it's hardly as if either he or Brendon is any good at hanging anything up. Most of their clothes are all over their bedroom floor, or the dresser, or sprawling out of the shelves in the wardrobe. Most of the time they just pick out their clothes from the basket in the laundry room. Spencer's pretty sure by now that their habits aren't exactly going to change anytime soon. Anyway, Arthur isn't even crawling yet, so clearly the coat hanger is magical and appeared all by itself. 

"He has all the toys in the world," Brendon agrees, yawning. He leans over and bumps Spencer's elbow. "All the toys in the world, and all he wants to play with is _that_." 

"A piece of wood with a hook on it," Spencer nods. There's a tub of farm animals on the floor by Arthur's foot, a sprawling pile of picture books tumbling off the table, and a box full of brightly colored plastic baby toys just within Arthur's reach. Arthur isn't interested in any of it. "You think we should take it off him?" 

"Probably," Brendon looks uncomfortable; Annabel is crawling all over his lap, books going everywhere. He shifts even as Spencer's looking, letting Annabel curl sleepily against his chest, her head against his shoulder. She's had a very long day of playing, and if she wasn't worn out, Spencer would be worried. "He seems pretty happy, though."

Annabel hits her book lazily against Brendon's leg. Spencer nudges her toy stroller out of the way with his foot; rather than dolls, Annabel has a stuffed penguin, a snake, three plastic frogs and a furry iguana, all underneath a blanket and staring uncompromisingly at Spencer. Spencer may—possibly—find that vaguely disturbing, although this is something he is never, ever, ever telling Brendon. 

"Story!" Annabel says, fiercely. "Story story story. Tell me a story."

"Your turn," Spencer says, sleepily. 

"Yours," Brendon argues, but it's his leg Annabel's hitting, and it's his lap that she's sprawled across, so it isn't a real argument. Anyway, Brendon loves reading her stories—they both do, but Brendon loves making all the voices and the actions. Spencer mostly likes helping Annabel search the pages for pictures of ducks or penguins or puppies. 

Spencer just yawns again, and leans over to pick up Arthur and hide the coat hanger behind the couch. Arthur doesn't look sleepy at all, but this is because Arthur is a mutant, just like his big sister. Arthur hasn't slept a night through since he was born, which is apparently totally normal for a ten month old baby, but Spencer still secretly thinks that they're raising a couple of potential superheroes. It would explain why his kids were so completely and totally awesome. He and Brendon have an ongoing conversation about what their kids' superhero strengths would be, and which would be coolest. 

Arthur starts to chew noisily on his rattle. He says _ted ted ted_ in between sucks; Spencer not so secretly finds it ridiculously cute that his baby's first words is _teddy_. "I think Annabel's falling asleep," he says, softly, watching Brendon read to her. She's not really listening to Brendon's story, seemingly content to just snuggle into Brendon's side. 

"I'll take her up," Brendon says, equally softly. She's finished her milk, and Brendon carefully disentangles her from her sippy cup. Annabel doesn't protest, for a change, and Spencer leans in to kiss her goodnight. She waves at him, sleepily, and rubs her nose against Brendon's neck as he takes her upstairs. 

Spencer leans his head back against the couch. He's tired, even though Arthur isn't. "Baby, baby, baby," he says, softly, and Arthur says something back, a wave of sound Spencer can't parse. "Yeah," Spencer says, and kisses Arthur's hair. 

~*~

Annabel hates everything. She doesn't want to go to their stupid new house, she wants to go back to their old apartment in New York, she doesn't want to move to California, and she wants to stay in Paris on vacation and not get on a stupid plane. 

"But, baby," Brendon says, helplessly "you didn't like Paris last week. And you were all excited about California before."

"I like Paris now," Annabel says, fiercely. She folds her arms and stamps her foot, and Brendon chooses to ignore a middle aged French couple who look annoyed that Brendon and Spencer have chosen to dump all of their stuff and their babies all over the seats next to them at the departure gate. "And California smells."

Brendon can see Spencer coming back from the bathroom with Arthur. He's crying and Spencer's having to carry him, Arthur snuffling against his neck. When they get to where Annabel and Brendon are waiting, Spencer sweeps his bag off the seat and onto the floor and sits down next to them. 

"I don't want to go to California," Annabel says, loudly and grumpily. "Let's pick a plane that goes to New York instead."

"It doesn't work like that, baby," Brendon says, tiredly. He's way too exhausted for this. He rubs his forehead with his fist and thinks about the last time he got any proper sleep in his own timezone. 

Spencer reaches over and takes his hand. "We'll be home soon," he says, softly, but Brendon thinks he knows what Annabel is feeling, because he doesn't want to go back to a place he doesn't know, either.

"I want to go home," Brendon says, equally quietly, and Spencer leans over and kisses his temple. 

Annabel starts to cry, and Arthur, hearing Annabel, decides to ricochet his crying up a level to join her. 

Brendon's getting a headache. "Our babies are the best babies," he says. 

"Maybe we should just tell them about getting a dog," Spencer says, quietly, and Arthur must hear, because he stops crying and stares up at them both. 

"Doggy!" he says, and Brendon kisses the top of his head in relief. 

Getting a dog is something Brendon and Spencer have been talking about for a while. It's part of their justification for moving out to California; getting a house, a yard, some space for the kids to play outside. They've spent too long in an apartment building, and Brendon keeps thinking about growing up with his mom and dad, with a trampoline in the back yard and barbecues and somewhere safe to play. They can have pets, have a dog and a cat and a rabbit, and Brendon really wants that for his kids. 

Spencer wants pets too; he's always missed the dogs he owned with Haley, back when they were trying to live together, all those years ago. And it would be good for the kids, good for them to have some kind of responsibility, something to share. 

That, and Brendon wants a puppy. 

"A dog?" Annabel says, after Brendon wraps an arm around her shoulder and lets her lean against his arm. 

"Yeah," Brendon says. "We thought we'd get a puppy as a present for us all when we move to California. How does that sound? Like fun?"

Arthur wants to know if they can get one _now_ , and when Spencer tries to explain that they can't, he scrunches his face up like he's going to cry again. 

"Shut up, baby," Annabel says. "Dogs can't fly."

"I'm not a baby," Arthur complains. "Tell her, daddy."

"You're both my babies," Brendon says, tiredly. They are. He kind of loves them a lot. Even when it's the middle of the night and their plane is delayed and they're going back to a place that isn't their home, at least not yet. 

"You think you can both be good on the plane?" Spencer asks, leaning over and rubbing at the back of Brendon's neck. "Because if you are, then we'll be able to get our puppy quicker."

"Yes," Annabel nods, quickly. "We'll be the goodest kids ever, won't we, Arthur?"

"Do dinosaurs like dogs, Daddy?" Arthur asks, concerned. He's clutching his stuffed stegosaurus, and looking worried, and not listening to Annabel. "What if Henry frightens the puppy?"

"Dinosaurs love puppies," Brendon says. "They don't get frightened of them."

"Good," Arthur says, decisively. He clutches his stegosaurus tighter, and snuggles closer to Spencer, curling up in his lap and resting his head against Spencer's chest. "Sleepy," he says. 

"It's going to be exciting to sleep on the plane, right?" Brendon says. He ruffles Arthur's hair, and Arthur holds up his stegosaurus for Brendon to hug. He's shooting careful glances at Annabel, knowing how much she hates going to sleep in places she doesn't know. The plane ride is going to be difficult for her. 

Annabel clutches her backpack tighter. "I'm going to be good," she says, "because then we can get the puppy faster."

"Good," Brendon says, and he moves over so that Annabel can share his seat, climbing up on to his lap and dragging her backpack after her. She picks her book out of her bag and has Brendon read to her as they wait for their plane to board, a chapter and a half of some book about penguins and the South Pole. She sucks her thumb and hugs her penguin and Brendon kisses the top of her head. 

"Looks like we're getting a dog," Spencer says, softly, and Brendon meets his eye and grins. 

"Looks that way," he says. 

~*~


End file.
